The Opelousas courier., 1887-09-17

cost Of unceaslng labor with a stea'
cudgel.
Dave, walking Judy slowly down thu
mountain path, laughed as he thought OF
the ridiculous figure Rob would cut or
old Obed, and wondered what the boy
could be thinking of, and if he under.
stood what a tournament was.
But his laugh died abruptly away as a
sudden turn in the path brought him al
most upon a little clearing in the vast
stretch of dark, u%ninhabited forest, in
the middle of which stood a little log
cabin of two rooms, divided by a wide
entry.
It was Rob's home, and his mother-a
forlorn figure in her coarse, homespun
dress, Stat sun-bonnet, and cowhide
shoes leaned oyer the rail fence, a bucket
in her hand.
1t seemed to Dave that a shadow fell
across her face as she saw him, and her
voice quivered as she asked if he We're
going to the tournament.
"Rob heared Yesterday as how ye'd
give it up" she said.
81 amt he'd no thought o. sech a
thing" answered Dave. 81 want ter
know how it feels to have twenty-five
dollars in my pocket" The m
drew a long, deep breath.
Its all up with Rob, then" she said,
in a low, despairing tone. "When he
heared you'd pulled out he got the
promise o'Sam Breen's horse, m he made
sure o. the prize. Mercy knows we need
it bad enough. But Rob, he amt the
rider you be. He won't stand no chance
now"
She turned abruptly and went into the
cabin, closing the door of the kitchen
behind her. And Dave, no longer in a
CHEEKY mood, rode on again, a per-
picked look on his honest, sunburned
face.
81 amt called on ter give it up-it's
too much to ask. We II need the
money, too" he muttered.
Then he remembered that when he
u a rake prong into his foot, Rob's
mother had toiled up to Mandy's cabin
every day to dress the wound, and had
torn up the only piece of fine muslin she
possessed to make bandages. And years
ago when he had been left motherless,
with no one to care for him save ~asister,
only a few years older than himself, Mrs.
Hartley had given him food and shelter
for months at a time.
II amt ever done nothin' ter square
accounts with her; that's a fact" he NUT
tered, as he recalled these things. 81
reckon I'd be a mean hound to run agin
Rob now. II won't do it." and the
heavy sigh which accompanied the
words showed what it cost to utter
them.
There was a great crowd at the sceneof
the tournament, and the excitement was
intense. Dave stood a little apart, but
in good view of the track, his arm about
Judy's neck. He had briefly announced
that he did not intend to ride, and had
refused any explanation, even to How
ard Hilton, who was much disappointed
at his decision.
As the horses dashed up the track
amid cheers and cries from the crowd,
Judy paved the ground impatiently and
turned her large, soft eyes again and
again upon her masters face, as if seek
ing to read there Why she, too, was not
allowed TO show her PAGES.
But Dave stood in silence by her, his
eyes ever upon the lank, awkward figure
RobHartley, seated on Black Eagle.
fasy leaning against a tree, he
the boys mother with a faded red
about her thin shoulders, !
The contest was a spirited one; every
competitor dld ms best, the lace OF
Dawes withdrawal having allowed hope !
to creep into the, hearts of even the poor
est riders; but Bob Hartley came off vic !
tor, and Dave, with q strange pang, saw
the prize awarded to him.
81 can't make out why ye changed yer
min, bout ridin,, Dave said his broth
er-in-law, as they rode home together at
shutdown,
II got out q the notion o it, ans ,
wered Dave laconically.
And no one except the Heavenly
to whom the secrets Of all hearts
open, ever knew how great was the
sacrifice he had made that day.-[New
York Examiner.
EHF%WM#@srN NA 49, @H85$@E 4